


Do it with passion or not at all

by ChubbyDumpling384



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blowjobs, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Friends With Benefits, Metal Arm Kink, PTSD, Sexual Harrassment, Unplanned Pregnancy, Veteran!Bucky, former ballerina!Natasha, more tags to be added in further chapters, referenced consensual underage sex, winter soldier looking bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7666654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChubbyDumpling384/pseuds/ChubbyDumpling384
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is done with everything. Her mother doesn't talk to her, her colleagues are assholes, and her best friend lives in another city. And as if that wasn't enough to deal with, she's about to be a single mom and has to move to a cheaper flat because of it.<br/>Thankfully though, she gains a new neighbor in the process who quickly becomes a friend, even though he seems to be working through some issues of his own. It's just unfortunate that he's really hot as well, and even more unfortunate that being really hormonal around that provokes all kinds of dirty thoughts that are not supposed to be part of a platonic friendship...</p>
<p>Or: A BuckyNat AU with a lot of smut nobody asked for but which got my imagination going anyway!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Make up your mind to explore yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I originally started writing this story as an excuse for some BuckyNat smut, but then a lot more plot and backstory happened than I originally intended. But when inspiration strikes, I will certainly not complain! Anyway, what this means is, there will be a lot of explicit sex (additional tags may be added as the story progresses), but maybe not in every chapter, after all. Bucky and Natasha both have to other issued to work through.  
> Please mind the tags and proceed with caution if anything referenced there causes you problems. Additional tags may also be added as the story progresses. There will be no non-consensual sexual content.

Natasha put down the heavy box on the second landing and stood up to straighten her back. She had been carrying smaller boxes all morning but this one contained cutlery, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what had made her put all this stuff in this _one_ box that she could now barely lift. She breathed deeply a couple of times, and bent down to take up the box again, ignoring the footsteps she could hear from down below.

She managed three more stairs before she had to put the box back down with a groan, shaking out her exhausted arms and looking down on the offending item with a glare.

“You okay?”

Natasha turned around to face the owner of the voice who had stopped mounting the stairs halfway up to where she was standing and was now watching her with concern. She gave him a half smile and turned back around to face her task, hoping he would just go away.

“Yes. Fine, thank you.”

She got up the box again and moved up two more stairs when something within the box shifted to the side and pushed the whole thing out of balance. She unsuccessfully tried to pull it back for a second and was just starting to accept the fact that all her plates and cups were about to smash to the floor when a hand appeared in her line of sight, stopping the box from falling and quickly hoisting it out of her arms.

She turned to the right to find the stranger looking at her. He shifted the box to his left hand, seeming to somehow support its weight easily, while giving it stability with his right.

“How far up are you going with that?”

“Third floor”, she said, accepting defeat with a sigh. They walked to the next floor side by side in silence, and she watched the man out of the corner of her eye. He was tall, with dark brown hair that reached down to his shoulders, blue eyes and sharp cheekbones that were half hiding behind a somewhat scruffy beard. He was wearing lose-fitting clothes that cloaked his figure. Underneath his jacket she could see a grey T-Shirt poking out of his black pullover, accompanied by a washed out pair of blue jeans. She estimated him just a little bit older than herself, maybe in his mid- or late twenties.

They arrived on the third floor and the man waited patiently for her to get the key out and open up the door to her new flat, stepping in behind her to put down the box next to the wall right beside the door. The door opened directly into the living room which was already furnished, but a number of more unopened boxed were scattered across the room, waiting for her to unpack the stuff to make this place her home.

“Thank you”, she said and he nodded with a little smile.

“Anytime. Was that your last box?”

“No, there are a few more in the van downstairs. I’ll have it done quickly.”

“Okay then, I’ll help”, he said and walked out the door before she could answer, waiting for her to follow a few stairs down.

“Um, you don’t have to”, she quickly supplied, following him anyway and pulling the door shut again behind her. “I can do this by myself, I just put too much shit at once into this one box.”

“I know, but I have nothing better to do and it’s going to be quicker.”

She couldn’t argue with that so they went down together a couple more times, carrying up the remaining boxes. It was a relief when she finally could lock up the van and remain up in the flat for good. She would have to give the car back tomorrow, but she’d deal with that later.

“Um, thanks for helping”, she said to the guy as he put down the last box on her sofa. “I would offer you a beer or something but I don’t have any groceries, yet. Just tap water.”

“Yeah, no worries”, he replied, putting his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and smiling over at where she was leaning against the dining table.

“But really, thank you. I wouldn’t have finished carrying all this stuff until midnight, probably. I’m Natasha, by the way.”

“James”, he supplied. “I live in the flat right above you. Why are you moving on your own anyway? Nobody willing to help?”

Natasha uncomfortably shifted her weight to her other foot. “I didn’t really want anybody to know that I was moving for now, so I didn’t ask people.”

“Oh okay…” James looked like he wanted to enquire further but seemed to decide against it, instead settling on “Where did you move from?”

“Across town.” She eyed him silently for a minute, chewing on her lip while deciding whether to give him the story.  If he was her neighbor he would find out soon enough, anyway, but she was sick of being judged and ridiculed and decided to enjoy his friendly manner for a little while longer. He seemed confused by her vague answer but thankfully dropped the subject when she didn’t continue.

“How about you let me treat you to something tomorrow evening for your help, when I’ve settled in a bit?” she said to break the uncomfortable silence. “I don’t think I can do anything fancy, maybe just takeout or something, but I’d really like to repay you here.”

“Yeah why not”, he smiled and reached up to put a stray lock of hair back behind his ear.

“Does six o’clock work for you?”

“Fine by me. I’m going to bring some drinks, though, so we can toast to happy neighborhood!”

“No alcohol though. I don’t drink alcohol.”

He raised his brows at her sharp tone but again didn’t enquire further. She really liked him already just for not being a nosy dude. “Okay. No alcohol. I’ve got another idea, I think you’ll appreciate it.” He winked and smirked and she couldn’t help but laugh a little before he turned and made his way to the door. “I’ll leave you to your settling in now. If you want any help or just some company you know where to find me now.”

They smiled at each other for a second before he walked out the door and left her standing between all the boxes, wondering where even to begin unpacking.

*

There was a knock on the door the next evening at 6 o’clock sharp. Natasha opened up her door to find James smiling at her, holding up a bottle in one hand and a little box in the other. He stepped in, handing her both things and looking around appreciatively.

“Wow, you got a lot done since yesterday, I’m impressed!”

It was true. There were three boxes left standing in a corner that she didn’t know what to do with, yet, and the walls were still pretty much bare, but everything else was in its place, the flat looking more like an actual home now rather than just a random furnished space.

“Yeah, that worked, but I didn’t have time to do much grocery shipping in turn, so I just ordered some pizza. I’m a bad cook anyway. Sorry.”

“That’s fine, pizza pretty much gives meaning to life in the first place. You can never go wrong with that.”

“That’s what I thought.”

As he pulled back a chair to sit down on she noticed the glove on his left hand. Had that been there yesterday? She hadn’t really paid any attention to that underneath all his clothes and his jacket. Today he was wearing a simple dark green hoody, and the black glove was clearly visible at the end of his sleeve. He caught her looking and quickly put the hand under the table. So he didn’t want to talk about it, good to know. It was probably some kind of skin condition that he was embarrassed about.

She busied herself by looking at the stuff he brought, telling him he shouldn’t have at the little box of chocolates but loving them anyway, and then eyeing the bottle that looked suspiciously like sparkling wine.

“It’s elder juice”, he explained. “They carbonate it so it looks and tastes a bit like sparkling wine, but it doesn’t have any alcohol in it whatsoever. I thought that might be nice.”

Natasha poured the stuff into two glasses for each of them and then took the pizzas out of the oven where she had kept them warmed up until now. “I’ve got one with peppers and salami and another with salmon and mozzarella cheese. I love them both equally, so you get to choose.”

“If it’s all the same to you I’ll have the one with salami.”

They ate in silence for a while, munching on the pizza and sipping the elder drink that turned out to be really enjoyable.

 When they were finished James got up and walked over to her bookshelf, scanning the titles with interest. “I’ve read a few of these, it looks like we’ve got quite similar taste.”

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever want to borrow any, just let me know. I’ll have you know I’m very picky about my books, so if you bring them back with stains or dog-ears that might turn out badly for you.” She said it with a smirk but she meant it. People who didn’t treat a book well were just not worthy of her attention anyway.

“I’ll keep that in mind”, James said and smiled at her.

Damn, he had a really attractive smile, she suddenly realized. And he was just very attractive in general. And what was more, she instantly became hyper-aware of how much all of this looked and felt like a date, and that hadn’t been her attention _at all_. She stole a glance at the table where the empty plates still rested next to the bottle of fake sparkling wine and the box of chocolates he had brought … shit, he had brought chocolates. Had she given him the wrong idea? Now the thought was in her head it was all she could think about, but she didn’t really know how to bring it up without making the whole situation weird.

Meanwhile, James continued to wander along her shelves to where she had put up some pictures. He took up one that showed a teenage girl in a salmon colored tutu doing a complicated jump in front of a black curtain background.

“Is that you?” He looked impressed when she confirmed that, yes, this was in fact her. He kept looking at the picture some more. “Do you still do ballet?”

This was another sore spot, but he couldn’t have known that, so she just breathed deeply and tried to decide on how much to tell him so the amount of her bitterness wouldn’t show.

“No. I used to, I went to ballet school for years, but I had an accident and couldn’t continue after that, so I haven’t really danced, since. I still work at the school, though, so I didn’t really leave the genre, if you will.” ‘So I get to watch all these other people graduating to get the success and the attention and the career that I was supposed to have’, she added in her mind, but James didn’t need to know that.

“Oh wow, that sucks, I’m sorry. You miss it a lot?” He was looking at her in earnest now and she held his gaze with what she hoped was a neutral stare, no matter how much she was squirming on the inside. This was a way too personal conversation with somebody she had just met yesterday, and no matter how much sincerity he radiated right now, she had learned the hard way that trusting other people with your feelings too quickly never led to anything good.

“Well, you know … it’s fine. I have to work fewer hours this way and it’s a lot less exhausting, and I still get to be around dancing every day, so it doesn’t feel like I really left. There’s not really a lot to miss.” That was a big, fat lie, but he seemed to believe her or at least pretended to when he nodded and put the picture back.

“Boyfriend?” He asked, pointing to the picture next to the ballet one, showing her arm in arm with a guy her age. This was safer territory, she thought, as she smiled over at the picture fondly.

“That’s Clint”, she supplied. “We had a thing for a while but then we figured out that we work much better as friends than as a couple. He lives in DC now, so we don’t see each other often, but we skype occasionally.” James nodded, taking another look at the picture. Natasha’s mind suddenly went back to her earlier thoughts and she jumped a little. “I don’t really date right now”, she added, grateful for the opportunity to insert that piece of information in a way that was hopefully not _too_ out of context.

“Yeah, neither do I”, James replied, and she watched his expression closely but thankfully could not find any signs of awkwardness or disappointment. Maybe he hadn’t taken this as a date after all. You could bring your new neighbor chocolates when they invite you over, right? It’s a friendly thing to do. Anyway, now that she had gotten that out Natasha could breathe a bit easier and flopped down on her sofa so watch him as he moved on to inspect her DVD collection.

It was a personal thing, him looking at all her stuff like that, but she couldn’t really blame him. She did the same thing when she was at another person’s place. You can tell a lot about a person by the books and movies they own and the pictures they put up. The ballet photo was a sensitive subject, but she couldn’t _not_ put the picture up. Everything else on her shelves was safe territory.

He made a few comments about the films she owned and they fell into easy conversation after that. He had taken a couple of the DVD boxes out and sat down on the sofa next to her, carefully reading the information on their covers and deciding on a few he was going to borrow. She snuck another glance at the glove on his left hand and he noticed her doing it, but he still didn’t explain and she didn’t ask. Fair enough, she thought, with all the stuff she didn’t want to talk about, she could certainly give him that.

It was past eleven when he got up to leave, not before ensuring her that he would watch the movies asap and get back to her about them soon.

“Maybe we can hang out together again soon?” he asked, hand already on the door handle. “I’ve been living here for almost a year, but I’ve never connected to anyone else living in this house before, so if you want…?” he trailed off.

Natasha looked at him. “Yeah, that’s be nice”, she found herself saying. “I’m free most evenings and have nothing to do on week-ends, so just let me know what works for you.” He nodded and smiled and then left to walk up the stairs to his own floor, the DVD cases tucked safely under his arm.

*

They seemlessly fell into an easy, unassuming friendship after that. It was nice having somebody friendly as close by as this, and she could just walk up to his flat when she was feeling like company and he did the same. They spent a lot of evenings together, watching movies or just talking. There was the occasional day where he opened the door looking tired and worn-out when he told her he couldn’t hang out tonight. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it any more than he talked about the glove on his hand that she never saw him without. They both knew there were a lot of things they didn’t trust each other with, yet, and that was okay. She soon considered him a friend, anyway, and so, apparently, did he, because he said “my friends call me Bucky, by the way” three weeks after their initial meeting.

“Bucky?” she asked curiously, certain that there must be a story there.

“It’s because of my middle name. I’m called James Buchanan Barnes, and my friend Steve sort of invented that short form when we were kids and it stuck.” So she smiled and started calling him that, too. “Suits you more than James, anyway, if you ask me. James sounds like a British aristocrat.”

There was one thing she would _have_ to tell him about, though, before he could figure it out for himself, but her past experiences had taught her to approach the subject with caution. So she waited until they were both slumped on her couch one day, watching without a lot of interest as the credits of a movie rolled across her TV screen, before pulling herself together.

“Bucky? Remember when we met and I told you I didn’t want people to know I moved here?”

“Yes?” he turned his head towards her, looking at her intently. The serious tone of her voice had his attention in a heartbeat.

“Well, it’s … the reason I moved here. The point being that … uh, I’m pregnant.”

That hadn’t been half as smooth as she had intended, and it obviously caught Bucky off guard, because his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. She quickly averted her gaze and kept talking before he could say anything.

“Funny story. I let myself get knocked up in a one-night-stand. Swedish tourist with a cute accent, really hot guy. There was a condom, actually, in a drawer of his hotel room, but we were both drunk as fuck so we kind of forgot about it, and it was still in there, nicely folded in its package, when I walked out of the hotel with the hangover from hell the next morning. So four weeks later I got suspicious and it turned out I was expecting. I’m sparing you the details of my initial freak-out, but long story short: Since I’m going to be a single mum and I don’t make that much money, I couldn’t afford a baby with the rent I was paying, so I had to get a cheaper flat. Hence, I’m here.”

She let out a breath and snuck a quick look over to Bucky, who had closed his mouth again, his gaze trailing down to her flat stomach.

“You can’t see it yet, but I’m almost thirteen weeks gone so I’ll probably start showing any day now. I was told to expect a bump sometime between week 12 and 16.”

Bucky snapped his eyes away from her stomach back to her face, cleared his throat audibly and took a deep breath.

“Uh well, I was not expecting that. I mean … I don’t know if I should say shit or congratulations right now. I mean it’s a shitty situation, but you’re having a baby! Man, that’s … I don’t even know what it is, you kind of fried my brain right now, I had no idea! I don’t really know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just felt like I should tell you before you can see for yourself.”

He nodded slowly, staring at nothing in particular, obviously still processing.

“So that’s why you didn’t want any alcohol.”

She had to laugh a little at that. If that was what he was focusing on, fine by her. “Yup, that’s why. I usually do drink, actually. Exhibit A”, she said, motioning vaguely in the direction of her stomach.

“Why didn’t you just say something earlier? What did you think I would do? I mean, it’s a pregnancy, it’s not like you killed someone or something.”

“I haven’t exactly gotten the best reactions to the news until now, so I’ve been very cautious about telling people.”

“What do you mean, not the best reactions?”

“Ah, when I told my mum on the phone she cursed me out in Russian and told me I was stupid and pretty much a disappointment to the legacy of the family. And my male colleagues are pretty gleeful about me being pregnant by a one-night-stand, and they let me know how funny they find it at every chance they get.”

“What the hell? What the fuck is there to be gleeful about?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay. Sorry, but they sound like complete assholes.”

“They are.”

“And your mom … wow.”

“She’s a Russian country girl and she’s very conservative. She didn’t like me going to ballet school in the US in the first place, because she doesn’t trust Americans at all, but my father was still alive then and convinced her to let me go when the opportunity presented itself. I went home for the summer every year, even after my father had passed away, until the summer after my accident.”

“What happened?”

“I told her that I was going to stay in America regardless, even though my dancing career was over, because this was home now, but she didn’t understand that. And as if that didn’t have her horrified enough I accidentally told her about two exes of mine and she found out that I was not a virgin anymore with no husband in sight, and all of those things were just too much for her to forgive all at once. We had a big fight. She didn’t outright say it but it was clear that she thought her daughter was a slut, and I had disappointed her on every possible level, and she didn’t want to see me. So I went back here and I haven’t been back, since. We speak on the phone every few months, but they are very cold conversations, and she hardly even acknowledged it when I told her she was to be a grandmother soon. I guess to her that was just proof that she had been right about me all along.”

“I’m sorry”, Bucky said, looking sad.

“It’s not as bad as you think.  I’m used to her disapproval ever since I went overseas when I was 10. I found I’m better on my own, anyway.”

“I used to think that, too, but I was wrong.”

“Yeah? How so?” she asked, happy to be able to change the subject and attention from herself.

“I went through some stuff. Thought that I was best left to myself because I would just be a burden anyway, and tried to cut myself off from everyone. My family and friends wouldn’t have it, though. They pulled me back from the darkness in my head, and I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without them.”

He shifted a bit to turn fully towards her.

“There are still bad days, you know when I brush you off at the door of my flat? These days. But they don’t happen quite as frequently as they used to, so there’s an achievement.”

Natasha nodded. It was always a bit hurtful when he did that, but she had figured that he had some issued, and probably also just needed some space now and then.

He looked at her with a smile, and she gave the tiniest smile back, relieved that this conversation was done and the mood was on its way up again.

She got up to present him with some DVD cases, so he happily selected one and then she settled back down to watch another movie. Bucky rested his right arm on the back of the sofa directly behind her shoulders, but didn’t touch her, and it was a good thing to do, because it quietly provided her with a feeling of familiarity and comfort without being intrusive.

After the movie he got up with a groan, complaining about his aching bones from having sat too still for too long. They bade goodbye to each other just like they always did, and then he was gone, leaving her to the quiet space of her flat. Not till her breathing started getting quicker did she realized how much tension was suddenly falling off of her, and she had to sit down and make a conscious effort to breathe normally to stop herself from truly hyperventilating.

The conversation had gone well, all things considered, but she had let her guard down so much that he had seen how hurt she had been by the behavior of her mother and her colleagues. She didn’t usually let her feeling show like this, especially in the company of somebody she had only knows for a few weeks. She only had the hormones to blame, who seemed to be completely messing with her mind lately, anyway. What was done was done, though, and all that was left for her to do now was make sure that it didn’t happen again.


	2. Make up your mind, you have stories to tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Bucky take their relationship to the next level. Whether that's such a good idea is yet to be determined...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan was to have this chapter up on Friday, but real life got in the way, sorry! To make it up to you guys it's sconsiderably longer than the last chapter, and it also contains some smut, which I hope you'll enjoy :)
> 
> Thanks to everybody who already left comments and kudos, I really appreciate all of that! <3

Not letting her guard down proved to be a hard task as she continued to see Bucky every other day and he continued to be full of warmth and oozed a level of comfort that was almost scary. He didn’t treat her differently, now that he knew what she called her tragic life story – or at least part of it – and she was eternally grateful for that.

“Sounds like you lucked out with that neighbor of yours”, Clint said from the computer screen, carefully adjusting his hearing-aid.

“Seems like it. It’s nice to come home and see a friendly face after all”, she agreed with a smile, causing Clint to raise his eyebrows.

“Uh oh, am I sensing domestic bliss right around the corner? You and the tall dark stranger next door?”

Natasha snorted. “Domestic bliss, sure. Did you forget about the part where I’m having another man’s baby?”

“People have gotten over worse obstacles to have relationships, Natasha.”

“I know that, but that would only apply if I even _wanted_ a relationship. Which I don’t.”

He didn’t sound convinced and wriggled his eyebrows at her with a grin. “You like him, though!”

“Of course I like him, I just told you we hang out all the time. I just don’t want a relationship. Not with him and not with anyone else. This right here is the only relationship I’m interested in.” She gestured in the direction of her stomach. “That’s going to be complicated enough.”

“You might have a point, there”, Clint admitted. “It’s great you have a friend in the house, though. I want to meet him next time I come down to New York.”

“Sure thing. When’s that going to be, by the way? Are you getting some time off soon?”

They chatted for a while longer, mainly about new episodes of TV shows they both watched, and some celebrity gossip that Natasha wasn’t shy about admitting she followed. It was a nice and comfortable, like all conversations with Clint were. When they ended the call she winced a bit at the silence in the apartment, but not as much as she used to. She still missed him a lot, especially after these calls, but now that she had another friend in the city it wasn’t quite as disheartening anymore.

*

These days Natasha stood in front of the mirror every morning, turning sideways to check whether her condition was obvious, yet. She could see the first signs exactly five days after she had told Bucky about her pregnancy. And from then on it seemed to progress faster than she had expected. It remained concealed underneath her clothing at first, but on day 11 she had to start wearing considerably looser shirts, hiding behind her reception counter at the ballet school as much as she could to not rekindle the rude comments sooner than strictly necessary.

What was more, those fucking hormones seemed to want to be even crueler to her. It started when she was flipping through TV channels one night, finally settling on some sort of political drama. It all seemed pretty innocent, until there was a scene where the former president’s son met another guy for a sex date, and two admittedly pretty hot actors started kissing and undressing each other hungrily.

It was only a short scene, quickly zoning out like movies always did with gay sex scenes, but it was enough to send a familiar jolt through her gut at an unfamiliar intensity. She was terribly aroused, but she refused to act on it, cursing out her hormones, purposefully thinking about disgusting things like the hair she had pulled out of her shower drain that very morning.

Once the thought was there, there was no escaping from it, though. She got aroused by the stupidest things. A particular song on the radio, the tickling of water on her skin in the shower, kissing couples on the street, not to mention kissing scenes – or god forbid, sex scenes – in films, and, worst of all, Bucky.

She had always found him attractive, sure, but in that new constant state of horniness she was suddenly hyper-aware of his physical appearance every time they were in the same apartment. It was obvious he had a well-built body, but she loved his eyes, the to-die-for-cheekbones and his scruffy look as well, and she found herself constantly inappropriately staring at his ass when he turned his back.

As if that wasn’t enough already, he kept no longer being fooled by her wide shirts, wanting to know excitedly whether that meant she was showing, and asking to touch when she grudgingly confirmed that, yes, it was indeed becoming more and more difficult to hide her condition.

So when they hung out to watch movies he would often just rest his hand on her stomach, not moving it, just leaving it there to radiate warmth, and that simple touch sent the most inappropriate, sinful thoughts into her head, internally cursing every single last hormone in her body forever and ever. She still didn’t have the slightest interest in a relationship, and neither did he, but she wondered whether that also meant that casual sex was out of the question. She could do casual, she thought, she’d done it before. No romantic stuff, just something so release the tension … wasn’t that something that they could maybe pull off?

If he noticed what she was thinking he hid it well. He seemed oblivious, fully committed to the whole platonic friends thing, never giving her any reason to think he might be interested back. She was usually not shy about letting a man know what she wanted, and once she had learned the appeal of her own body it had usually not been very hard to get it, too.

But this particular man was currently the only person in her life who provided some sort of stability (not counting Clint, but he was living too far away to provide more comfort than kind words on skype), and she wasn’t going to ruin that until she was completely sure he wanted her, as well. It was better to be sexually frustrated than lonely, after all.

*

She pounded up the stairs to her flat after work angrily one day, when Bucky was just descending from his floor, frowning as he took in her mood within a second.

“What’s wrong?” he called before he reached her landing, coming to a halt directly in front of her.

“Idiots”, she replied. “My fucking colleagues. The usual.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“You want some pizza?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Alright. I was just going to go down get some groceries, but I’ll pick up two pizzas on my way back and then come over to your place. Sound good?”

“Perfect.”

He smiled and continued downstairs, while Natasha opened her door and threw her bag into a corner, slumping down on her sofa and staring at the wall for a second, breathing roughly. When she looked down she found her right hand on her stomach, gently rubbing it where it was swelling, without remembering having put it there. That happened a lot these days. She made an effort to not do the pregnant woman thing where she had her hand on her stomach all the time, but more often than not she found herself stroking it gently. Apparently it was an unconscious thing she couldn’t turn off and she wondered briefly whether all pregnant women did that. It was comforting but it was also annoying.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when there was a knock in the door and she got up to let Bucky in. He carried in two steaming boxes of pizza, putting them gently on her kitchen table.

“Pizza to calm the nerves, as promised”, he smiled, opening the boxes and reaching up to open her kitchen cabinet to pull out two water glasses and some plates to set the table with. She got another nice view of his ass in the process, and his shirt rode up to reveal some skin on his back, as he stretched up. Natasha swallowed hard and tried to pull herself together.

She sat down, hungrily digging in until the pizza was gone and the warm heaviness within her body made her feel a bit better.

“So”, she said, because she felt like Bucky deserved some kind of explanation for his troubles. “today was the day my colleagues noticed the bump. I was sitting behind the reception  desk all day like I always do, but then I had to get up to fetch a folder out of a cupboard in the upper row. So I was just stretching up and leaning back a bit to pull the folder out, which meant that my shirt was clinging to my body, and apparently you could see it then, whatever, I don’t know.”

She took a gulp of water.

“One of the idiot colleagues happened to choose this exact moment to walk past, saw me, and then had a ball leaning over the counter to make all sorts of crude comments.”

“What kind of comments?” Bucky asked warily.

“Sexual stuff, basically. You don’t want to know the details, but it was basically about how if I wanted a baby I should’ve just asked, he would’ve been happy to put in the effort, and then he described all the different ways in which he would fuck me, either alone or with his friends. All of these guys are really committed to the idea of doing me as a group.”

Bucky made a disgusted noise and clenched his flesh hand around his gloved one forcefully.

“I’ve heard it all before when they first found out, and even before that, they are basically butt-hurt because I turned them down and then went and had sex with someone else.” That wasn’t all it was, but it was close enough to the truth and she didn’t want to discuss the rest of it, least of all with Bucky.

“They are sexist, dick-driven assholes. Can’t the directorate do something about it? Have you made a complaint?”

“I’m a receptionist, Bucky, and they are highly accomplished dance teachers that hold up the school’s reputation for the high artistic standards. You think anyone there wants to do something about them making some comments to the receptionist? I’m lucky they gave me the job at all. And I don’t want to leave, I don’t know anything other than dancing and this is the last bit of it I have. They are not all bad there, there are actually some people I enjoy sitting at lunch with, believe it or not.”

Bucky let out an annoyed huff. “Well, this is still bullshit and it’s unfair! You shouldn’t have to deal with all that!”

“I know. I can handle it, though, just needed to let off some steam. Thank you for being here for that”, she said with a smile that quickly turned wicked. “I’ll take my revenge eventually.”

“Did I ever tell you about my friend Steve?”

“The one who invented your nickname?”

“Yes, that one. He can be a pain in the ass, but he’s the best man I know and he has that all-encompassing sense of justice and a deep-rooted hate for bullies. If he knew about this, he’d probably march directly to your school and punch all of them in the face.”

“Okay … please don’t tell him then, I wouldn’t want the students to miss a lot of class because all their teachers are in the hospital”, she tried to joke and managed to actually make him smile at that.

“Maybe you can meet him someday, you would like him”, he added, but his smile looked a little bit sad around the edge for some reason. She nodded anyway.

“Uh, hey Buck, so I was thinking … it’s my birthday on Saturday and I thought, you know, if you have nothing else to do maybe you could come over and we can do something. You know I’m a bad cook, so it’ll probably just be some pre-made lasagna, but anyway, we could watch a movie or something. Basically what we always do, but since it’s a special occasion I thought we could maybe… dress up a little, what do you think?”

“Absolutely! I’ll dig out my nicest outfit for the occasion!”

*

The remaining two days of the week were pretty much dominated by her favourite colleagues keeping on harassing her. She had rummaged through her drawers in the morning, feeling oddly confident and deciding that if they knew anyway, she might as well show it proudly. She got on the tightest shirt she owned and sat down at the reception desk in the morning, very aware of the fact that her breasts had also started swelling in tandem with her stomach. A fact that wasn’t lost on the guys who kept harassing her, if the appreciative glances were anything to go by. It was gross they way they leered at her, but her sudden change in demeanor seemed to have thrown them off their game, the comments a wee bit tamer than usual when she walked around the entrance hall with her back straight and her boobs emphasized the way they were in that shirt.

For her birthday on Saturday she put on a red shirt that hugged her curves nicely with a classy black skirt and black pumps, paying extra attention to her hair and make-up, after she had gotten everything ready in the kitchen. The lasagna was waiting in the oven so je would just have to turn it on as soon as Bucky arrived.

She was nervously beginning to think that the dress-up idea had been a really bad one, but it was too late now. She didn’t know what she was trying to achieve with it, after all, except that it might earn her an appreciative once-over. Which would just rekindle all her fantasies again, which was why it was so stupid – but she liked to dress up and opportunity for that was rare these days.

As it turned out, there was a big flaw in her plan. The flaw being, that not only she would be dressing up, but so would he. Bucky knocked on the door right on time as always, and when Natasha opened it to let him in her jaw literally dropped. He stood there in skinny black jeans and a shiny, dark blue button down shirt that was tight enough for her to pity the hard-working buttons, leaving very little of the hard muscle underneath to the imagination. And as if that wasn’t enough to make _want_ rip through her gut, he had his hair pulled back in a _man bun_ , and his beard nicely trimmed just on the right side of scruffy.

He was now smiling at her good-naturedly, as if he didn’t know that he looked like _sin personified_ right now, and held out a neatly wrapped little package for her to take.

“Happy Birthday! You look really nice.” He said, looking her up and down, and it set every single last nerve in her body tingling. This had all been an absolutely horrible idea in the first place.

“Um, thank you, so do you”, she managed to say after swallowing hard, and finally got enough sense back to take the package from him and take a step back so he could enter her flat.

“You want me to open it right now?”

“Yep, if you want!” he smiled when he saw the table where she had already placed the cutlery, everything just waiting for them to get the lasagna going and eat it.

She carefully unwrapped to find a book and smiled when she saw what it was. It was the new book by Jeffery Deaver, who was already widely represented on her bookshelf. The book had only come out a couple of days ago, and he hadn’t managed to get it, yet.

She smiled up at Bucky. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you like it.”

It was a nice evening whenever she managed to concentrate on something other than straining buttons and pulled-back hair … the hair just really did it for her for some reason.

They sat and ate and talked and laughed a lot, like they always did, until Natasha stole the last bit of lasagna off his plate. She made a show of slowly bringing the fork up to her mouth, but he caught her arm to try to turn it back towards him.

“Get off me, it’s my birthday! My lasagna”, she screeched. Twisting away, she swiftly got out of her chair and turned to face the kitchen counter when he laughingly stepped up behind her and tried to reach through the gap between her arm and her torso, but he was too late, she was already chewing on the bite happily, letting the fork drop into the sink with a loud noise of triumph.

Bucky let his forehead drop forward into her hair with a defeated sigh, chuckling softly. He didn’t move away, and Natasha’s breath hitched, hyper aware of how close he was.

The air in the room suddenly shifted, the playful giddiness turning into a comfortable silence, neither of them moving. It could have been uncomfortable, because they usually didn’t touch much, but it wasn’t. He felt warm against her back, and she shivered when he lightly pulled at her hip to make her lean back against him.

“You need to stop doing that”, Natasha muttered, sounding awfully shaky as he started lazily stroking her swollen stomach with his right hand, the left resting lightly on her hip.

“Yeah? Why?” Bucky replied in an equally quiet but steady voice, not stopping anything at all, the little shit.

“Because I am horny as fuck _all the time_ , and you are looking sinfully delicious today and at this rate I am going to jump your bones any second now.” She hadn’t meant to let that out, but her whole body was tingling at his touch already, and he still didn’t move away and she wanted him _bad_.

“Hm”, he mused in a serious tone, breathing in the smell of her hair. “That doesn’t sound too good for you. I wonder if I might be able to do something about that...”

Slowly he let his left hand wander across her torso, pulling her close to him with surprising strength so her back was pinned against him, while his right hand dropped deliberately lower, sliding under the elastic waistband of her skirt. He paused there for a moment, giving her room to stop him, but when her only response was to grind her ass back into him his hand went lower, pulled her panties down enough to get him access, and started brushing her clit lightly with his index finger.

Natasha breathed in sharply, grabbing onto the kitchen counter in front of her for support when his touch sent a whole new intense wave of lust through her body. Heavy breathing turned into quiet, wrecked noises as his fingers started pressing harder, massaging, pinching and rolling her sensitive skin between his fingers in a way that was incredibly hot, especially because she couldn’t _see_ what he was dong underneath her skirt. She could only feel him working her up slowly but expertly, and she was growing wet with arousal at the touch really fast.

She let her head fall back against his shoulder, humming with pleasure as he turned his head and started sucking her earlobe softly, before moving down to her neck, hot breath on her flushed skin making her shiver even before he started sucking small bruises onto her collarbone.

He was a good bit taller than her, though, so the movement served to move his hips away from hers in order to bend his head down to her neck.  She found herself missing the warmth of him and reached back blindly with one hand, trying to get hold of his hips to get him back without having to go through the effort of forming coherent words.

After a few moments she brushed his jeans and hooked a finger into a belt loop to pull on it. When he realized what she was trying to do he straightened his neck and pressed himself back to her backside, head coming to rest lightly on top of her hair.

“Oh”, she breathed then, feeling a distinctive bulge against her ass that definitely hadn’t been there a few moments before. She pressed back into him, trying to grind herself against it in the confined space of his left arm, satisfied when he started to breathe harder at that. He started moving for himself then, rubbing his hardening erection against her butt to gain some friction through all the layers of clothing.

They stayed like that for a moment, his heavy breathing and her quiet moans the only sounds in the room for a couple of minutes as he continued to stroke her and rub himself against her ass. Just as she was beginning to realize that she was letting him do all the work he shifted a bit to the right. Before she could even wonder what was going on his right arm moved even lower and suddenly his index finger slid _inside_ her. She gave a few involuntary groans when the finger started sliding in and out, slowly testing the waters at first.

Then he crooked his finger inside of her as much as it would go, slowly sliding the crooked finger out, drawing a long, loud moan out of her in the process.

He repeated the movement a couple of times, the way his dick twitched through his jeans where it was still pressed close against her ass a good indicator of how much he was enjoying her continued loud reactions. She had always been loud in bed. No reason to stop now, thin walls be damned.

After pumping his finger in and out a couple of times he added a second, repeating the movement, crooking and scissoring his fingers inside her to stretch her out. There was also a pressure against her clit again, his thumb now rubbing it in small movements, adding to the overwhelming sensation that kept building up inside her body.

_Fuck_ , she thought, moaning louder as the pleasure grew. _That man knows what he’s doing_.

“Yes”, Bucky whispered in a strangled voice that did nothing to hide his own level of arousal “That’s it, let me hear how much you like it…”

He didn’t have to ask her twice when he brushed a spot inside of her that had her whimpering his name and grabbing the kitchen counter even harder. Once he found it he kept coming back to it, rubbing and pressing his fingers against it in a way that had her squirming with an overwhelming need.

“Oh god … Bucky … so good … I’m so close … don’t stop… just like that… more … fuck, _yes_!”

She had no idea what she was saying, all she knew was that everything in her body was yearning for release, the orgasm that she could already feel approaching but didn’t for the life of her come fast enough.

Bucky whispered something in her ear again but she was too far gone to comprehend the words, whimpering and groaning as his fingers kept driving her nearer and nearer to the edge but not quite over it.

He seemed to take pity on her then, quickening his pace and thrusting his fingers harder. Just seconds later she clenched around him, giving a prolonged moan as he slowed down to give her some light friction to ride out her climax. When she had no air left she inhaled with a high-pitched sound that she might have found embarrassing if the waves of pleasure rushing through her hadn’t felt so unbelievably good, before moaning loudly again at the aftershocks that were still rushing through her body.

When she finally came down from her high she sagged against him with a sigh, barely aware of how he finally released her upper body from the grip of his left arm, giving her room to move again. The removal of his right hand was more of a loss when he slid his fingers out to pull her panties back up with both hands. She let him do it, resting contently against his bigger body, reveling in the feeling of satisfaction her body had been craving for weeks now.

“Seemed like you needed that”, he said with a barely hidden smile in his voice.

“Hell yes, I did”, she sighed. “I’ve never come like this before, only with someone else’s fingers.”

“Well, I have never been with a pregnant girl. So there’s a first for both of us. I used to be really good at the fingering thing, though. Glad the magic still works.”

“Someone’s confident”, Natasha muttered quietly, shifting a bit and suddenly becoming aware again of the erection that was still straining Bucky’s pants.

“Don’t I have reason to?” he asked back with a good-natured grin and made a show of raising his right hand up directly in front of her face. “You should see what I can do with my mouth.”

Natasha turned her head backwards to look at him and failed to come up with a response when she found him slowly and deliberately sucking at his index finger which was still slick with her arousal, looking her dead in the eye as he did it.

Quickly she turned to face him completely and kept staring at his mouth with creased brows when he continued to suck at his middle finger the same way, lapping up the slickness that was still left there. He was being a bit too cocky for her taste, but he _did_ have reason to and she _did_ want to take _him_ apart now. The way his eyes were so dark and he was flushed all over, the erection tenting his pants as a silent tease.

“Your turn”, she said with a grin, turning them around so he was now the one leaning against the kitchen counter, and stepping so close her small bump pressed against his stomach, before reaching down and rubbing her hand against his bulge with some pressure.

He didn’t move for a second, only the rhythm of his breath and the expression of his eyes changing as she gave him some friction against his dick.

“You don’t have to”, he said and to his credit it looked like he really meant it.

“I want to”, she said and started rubbing a little harder and faster.

He made a small noise in the back of his throat at that, mouth falling open and eyes closing as he let himself enjoy the sensation.

“I haven’t come in my pants since I was a teenager”, he grinned after a while, _very_ out of breath.

“Who says I want you to come in your pants?” she wondered, pretending to be genuinely confused by the question.

“Don’t you?” he asked back, slightly opening one eye to take in her expression.

“I don’t”, she confirmed and grinned at his quiet groan when she took her hand away to hold onto his hips instead. Slowly she sank to her knees in front of him, only to tease him a bit, rubbing her nose against his dick and hooking her fingers into his belt loops to pull him even closer to her face, enjoying the way his breath hitched even more.

Deliberately slow she started unbuttoning his jeans and slowly slid them down his legs to reveal a pair of olive-green boxer briefs. His dick had just been a vague tent in his jeans, but it was now a very clear outline against the thin fabric of his boxers, complete with a damp spot at the tip that looked _very_ inviting.

She traced her fingers ever so slightly along the outline of his dick, moving her face closer to breathe hot air against it, and placing light kisses on his hipbones.

“Shit, are you trying to tease me to death here?” a strained voice finally said from above, causing her to smile and place a quick kiss on the fabric over the shaft before giving in and pulling down his briefs to finally release his erection from the confinement of his clothes. She could hear Bucky hissing a bit when she wrapped a hand around it, jerking him the way she knew would feel good, spreading out the moisture that was still leaking from the tip over the whole length to make the movement go smoother.

He did have a really nice dick, she assessed, uncut, not too short and maybe a little bit thicker than average, and currently beautifully flushed at the tip, throbbing with the arousal that had been building up since he had first slid his hand into her skirt.

She continued stroking him slowly, only lightly lapping at the tip of his dick with her tongue at first, making him hiss again and grab the edge of the kitchen counter as she had done earlier.

For a moment she took her hand and her tongue away, then, watching the veins that protruded as his dick throbbed in anticipation. It took exactly five seconds before he groaned with frustration and reached out for his dick with his own hand to give it some friction. “I swear to god…”

She chuckled a bit, enjoying herself a little bit too much as she caught his hand and placed it back where it had been at the counter. Then she decided she couldn’t draw it out much longer if she wanted him to still speak to her afterwards, and swallowed him down as far as she could in one swift, quick motion.

Bucky made a guttural sound deep in his throat, and the knuckles of his ungloved hand at the counter went white with how forcefully he was holding on. Natasha drew back almost completely, whirling her tongue around the tip of his dick and pressing it briefly to the underside just below it before diving in again, taking him as deep as she could, before drawing back again to bob her head back and forth in a fast rhythm. She had given enough blowjobs in her life to know how to play it, deciding that the time for teasing was now over and wanting to make it good for him.

He breathed fast and hard, the small noises he made resounding deep in his throat. Apparently he was not the loud type, but underneath the hem of his shirt Natasha could see the muscles of his lower belly working as he drew closer to the edge. She placed one hand on his hip to keep him from thrusting forward into her mouth, snaking the other underneath his shirt, laying it flat against his stomach.

And what a stomach that was! It had been obvious even when he was dressed that he was well-built, but that was a perfect six-pack if she had ever seen one. It was all hard muscle repeatedly clenching and unclenching with pleasure although he wasn’t even coming yet, and she’d be damned if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing. At least her body seemed to think so, sending a new wave of _want_ through her gut at the sensation. That would be a thing to explore for another time, maybe.

She stilled midway down his dick, then, sucking hard, when he finally _did_ make noise. A throaty little whine that was followed by another just like it when she sucked him again a few seconds later.

“Shit, Nat … I’m gonna…” he breathed with an effort, making another one of those wonderful noises announcing his orgasm. Slowly, Natasha drew back and popped off with a wet noise, replacing her mouth with her hand again. She didn’t move away, though, opening her mouth wider and hovering directly in front of the tip of his flushed dick, jerking him rapidly and waiting for the grand finale.

She didn’t have long to wait, because just seconds later all his stomach muscles underneath her left hand contracted to stillness for a second, and then he started releasing white streaks of come into her mouth, accompanied by another of his guttural whines, louder this time.

He fell back against the counter when he finished, looking down at her through hooded lids and shivering as she closed her mouth and made a show of swallowing the warm liquid he had spilled before swirling her tongue slowly around his tip to lick him clean. She then brought up her index finger to take up a drop of come that had ended up on her chin, only to slowly suck it off her finger, not breaking eye contact and grinning as his eyes widened again at that. Fair was fair.

She then got up slowly before leaning against him again to bury her face in his neck to return the hickey he had given her earlier. He shivered again at the touch, pulling her against him and stroking her back in the slow rhythm of a post-orgasmic haze, apparently unfazed by the fact that his pants and underwear were still down around his ankles.

“Well”, Bucky chuckled into her hair when he had finally caught his breath. “That was unexpected.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you looked so irresistible today, I get it.”

“Oh no, don’t put this on me, my dear, _you_ requested I should wear my nicest clothes. I’ll make an effort to look extra ugly next time.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“You’ve been eye fucking me all night, don’t even pretend.”

That was probably true, Natasha thought, but she was hanging on to a thin thread of pride and took a step back, looking him up and down with a wink.

“Oh look at you, so fucking smug for somebody without pants.” Bucky grinned back at her and bent forward without hurry to make himself presentable again. “You do have really nice abs, though. I’ll give you that. And I’m _very_ hormonal right now, so sue me for wanting a piece of that.” She tossed her hair back and turned her back to him to walk into the bathroom.

When she emerged, Bucky took his turn at the sink while Natasha made herself comfortable on the sofa, lazily zapping through TV channels. She still hadn’t decided on anything when Bucky emerged, sitting down next to her. She pointed at the TV a couple of times with a questioning look, but Bucky always just shrugged so she eventually settled on some weird game show that seemed to focus a lot more on the comedy aspect than the actual game.

They watched in silence for a while. Natasha wasn’t exactly sure when the comfortable atmosphere had turned into awkwardness, but suddenly it was there, hanging between them as thick as if it was another solid person in the room. Natasha couldn’t gather up the energy to do something about it, the relaxation that her orgasm had brought having turned into tiredness at this point. It would go away, she thought, as she slowly drifted out of consciousness after a while.

She woke up to an empty apartment a few hours later, still on the sofa. Except now, she was lying down with her head on the soft armrest, a blanket carefully draped over her, and the television and the lights turned off. When she got up to migrate into her bedroom she noticed that the lasagna plates and the glasses had been moved to the sink.

Well, she thought, am I not a wonderful host? I fall asleep on my guest and he has to clean up after me. No wonder Bucky left.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested, chapter titles are from the song "Make up your mind/Catch me I'm falling" from the musical Next to Normal. The plot of this doesn't really have anything to do with this story, but it's a great musical and the lyrics are great :)  
> The story title is a quote I came across on the internet that I found very fitting. If anyone knows where it's from, please let me know :)


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